


Bob

by Well excuse me (Donya)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-The Final Problem, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-13 20:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donya/pseuds/Well%20excuse%20me
Summary: Encouraged by Molly, Sherlock adopts a dog. You know where that leads.





	Bob

The post-Sherrinford to-do list was short. Explain the situation to Molly. Ring Mummy and Daddy. Reach out to Eurus. Clean up the flat. The first seemed the easiest, yet Sherlock put if off, anxiously imagining her reaction. He had flashbacks to the night he returned to London from Serbia and remembered how badly his humorous approach was received by John. Apart from that, he had a feeling that for Molly the humiliation of the forced love confession was the last straw. She had been his friend for so many years and he couldn't imagine a life without her.

Before he gathered up the courage to apologise properly, Molly texted him, asking if he was busy. He wasn't. Ten minutes later, he heard her footsteps and someone else's. Four paws. He curiously opened the door and saw Molly, fortunately not in a sour mood, and a dog. A small, frightened mongrel, ginger and white. The animal avoided his eyes and stayed close to Molly's leg.

'Can we come in?'

He had no idea. Did Mrs Hudson allow pets? Did it matter? He opened the door wider and both guests walked in. Molly let the dog hide behind her legs and didn't try to move away from him. Sherlock couldn't decide if he wanted to deliver his rehearsed apology or ask about the dog. Molly spoke first.

'This is Bob. His owner passed away and he's looking for a new home. I thought of you. John said you have always wanted a dog and actually never had one. Also, now you probably need a good friend .'

Sherlock was lost for words. She knew him so well. He did need company, all the people he had lost left a void. The distressing memories came flooding back after the confrontation with Eurus and Sherlock had never felt more vulnerable and alone. John did not understand and dismissed the idea of moving back in. A dog could help him deal with the loss of the childhood friend and the family drama. He was aware of the countless benefits of having a pet, yet somehow never considered adopting a dog.

'I... Is he all right?'

'Healthy, yes. The previous owner didn't treat him well, though. He'll need extra patience and love. He's a bit awkward, but I'm sure he can be a wonderful companion if you give him time. He has lots of love to give, he just needs time to open up.'

Sherlock was most puzzled by her trust. The dog needed someone reliable and well, normal. Sherlock would most likely unintentionally damage him even more. Pushing away the bitter thought that he was bound to ruin every relationship in his life had been hard lately. Dragging an innocent dog into the mess that was his life seemed cruel.

'Are you sure I'm the right person?'

Molly smiled warmly. 'Yes.'

Sherlock wanted to argue, but then the dog glanced at him from behind her left calf. Sherlock bent down and said hi, in the same tone he used when talking to Rosie. Bob looked at him for a couple of seconds. Sherlock suddenly realised he was practically leaning against Molly's knee.

'See? He's a good boy,' Molly said cheerily and gave Sherlock the leash. 'This is your new owner, Bob.'

Sherlock was glad Molly could stay for the rest of the evening. Bob clearly felt moe comfortable with her around. He was hungry, yet hesitated when Sherlock gave him food. He only ate it when they left him alone in the kitchen. Molly took the opportunity to remind Sherlock that Bob would not appreciate loud noises and sudden movements.

'Now I'm even more concerned. I will break him, won't I?

'You're exactly what he needs. You're a good person, Sherlock.'

 

Bob was definitely scarred by the previous owner. He expected Sherlock to punish him for everything, from wagging his tail to barking. Sherlock felt more confident when Molly encouraged him to text her whenever he was out of his depth. During the first week, it was a common occurrence. Bob had a tendency for hiding behind Sherlock's chair and chewing on his slippers, then feeling guilty about it.

'It's all right, Bob,' Sherlock assured him, although he liked that particular pair of slippers. 'Want a biscuit?'

 

Mrs Hudson was initially outraged by the idea of a filthy dog in her house. She changed her mind oddly quickly and formed a lasting friendship with Bob. He liked her as well. Rosie was another of his biggest fans. Her enthusiasm and clammy hands alarmed Bob at first. Rosie, however, did not remind him of the man who hurt him and he accepted her affectionate hugs and seemed almost ready to start playing with her without the fear of scolding. John agreed with Molly and instructed Sherlock how to properly treat a dog like Bob. Mycroft couldn't be any more surprised. Sherlock explained that it was Molly's idea and Mycroft nodded thoughtfully.

Focusing on Bob's recovery had a startling effect on Sherlock. He stopped having nightmares about boys trapped in wells and didn't spend every free moment on wondering if he could have prevented Eurus' murders. The loss of Mary was also easier to bear. Rosie would never meet her, but she had others in her life, including Bob. The new daily routine, feeding Bob and walking him and cleaning after him, was quite enjoyable, to Sherlock's surprise. He never thought he needed this sort of structure and predictability in his life.

Bob was feeling better. He would express his joy whenever Sherlock came home or spoke to him. He was getting used to the presence of clients. Most often, he would hide in the kitchen when Sherlock was working and stopped panicking when an unfamiliar man would come into the sitting room. He learnt the difference between gentle petting and smacks and didn't brace himself for a beating when Sherlock's hand touched his head.

It became obvious that Bob was the new tobacco ash. Sherlock had so much to tell about his dog, all of his observations and Bob's progress and which of the dog stereotypes were true. John had enough of it, Rosie's attention span was still too short for a lecture and Mycroft made it clear he didn't want to have anything to do with the dog. Sherlock didn't mind, he had one more person in his life, someone who always listened.

He started taking Bob for a walk to Bart's when Molly was about to finish her shift and he and Bob would walk her home. Bob loved those walks, he would wag his tail non-stop. They never set a fast pace and Sherlock had plenty of time to tell Molly all about Bob's food preferences. Molly always listened without the slightest sign of impatience or boredom.

After six months, Bob forgot about the old life and allowed himself to enjoy the new one. Sherlock thought he was above ostentatious displays of emotions, but he loved coming back home and being greeted by Bob. Sure, his fur was all over Belstaff and Sherlock had an occasional mini-heart attack when he saw a white hair in his curls. But such small inconveniences were meaningless. Bob gave him so much, a true friendship and loyalty.

One day Molly and Sherlock were petting Bob and their hands met. For an agonisingly long moment, Sherlock was mortified beyond belief. Molly, though, was calm and carried on stroking Bob's head. Sherlock realised Bob was not the only one frightened of affection and physical contact. The brief touch of Molly's hand didn't feel scary or wrong. Her reaction stopped his panic. It was all fine, he understood, he could relax and let her stroke him too.

Soon Sherlock and Bob not only walk Molly home. They stayed there.

**Author's Note:**

> Written by a cat person and a non-Sherlollian for reasons.


End file.
